Games of Destiny
by GinTsuki Okami
Summary: For the public Allen Walker is a light of hope; always cheerful and strong, but, what would they do if they knew the real Allen? This is the story of Allen Walker, the human boy with secrets like anyone else, a dark side filled with the stuff anyone would hide; low self esteem, self harm, depression, and other disorders. Some implied yaoi/yullen, might follow up if readers like it.
1. Chapter 1- A Refugee from Themselves

A.N.- Hello everyone! Ōkami here! If you are reading this, thank you so much from the very bottom of my heart. I'm a new writer, this is not my first story but it is the first I publish, I know I probably have tons of mistakes and I would honestly appreciate any reviews and advice you could give me. I honestly hope my story can be up to your standards and that you have as good a time reading it as I had writing it. I tried my best to keep it simple since I still can't decide if I will make this a multi-chapter story or if I will leave it as a one-shot, therefore I will leave that decision to you dear readers, after all it's your opinions that keep us writers moving forward. Anyway I won't take any more space with my babbling, again thank you for your time and attention.

Happy readings!

Disclaimer.- I don't own D. Gray Man, If I did, nothing would make sense with all my babbling, I do however own the plot of this work.

Side Note.- There is not much violence and graphic language that I know of, but if there is and it bothers anyone please, let me know and I'll do what I can to make things better. Also there is some implied stuff here and there, this is the base of a yaoi story, with lots of angst and depressing topics and things such as self-harm and disorders will be present so if you find any of this displeasing please continue with caution or avoid reading the rest, I honestly don't want to offend anyone I just want to share my work like any other author. So please, please proceed with caution.

Another Side Note.- the quotation marks ("") mean thoughts, the dash marks (-) are actual dialog. Hopefully that made sense…

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~A Refugee from Themselves~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

-oi, calm down kid, we like to eat too you know?

"I'm well aware of that and I'm deeply sorry, but I can't help it if I'm hungry."

-That's right kid, besides, where does all that food go to? Don't you think you'll get fat if you keep eating like that?

"I wonder the same thing too."

-With how much you eat one would figure you'd be growing a lot more.

"Well excuse me for being short; I didn't know it was such a crime."

-Are you really sure you're fifteen and not ten?

"Honestly I'm not; after all, it's not easy to keep track of time while living on the streets you know?"

-Aw come on everyone, leave the poor kid alone, besides with how pretty he looks who cares about his age, he should stay like this, young and beautiful forever.

-Haha, you're right, what a shame he's not a girl, such a cute face is wasted on a guy...

"Well I don't know how to feel about that, but I sure as hell don't enjoy being called cute. I'm a teenager and a male; I'm not supposed to be cute..."

That was the daily chatter heard thru the Black Order's canteen after the arrival of one Allen Walker, to onlookers that would pass as friendly talk, however, what so some might be a playful thing to others it might feel like hurtful reproaches, such is the case of the white-haired exorcist. Every time someone made another "joke", something on the back of Allen's mind seemed to come up with a reply to the seemingly inoffensive remarks of his peers. It hurt to be called short, a glutton, and it was downright offensive to be called the same words one would call a girl, he had enough bad memories from his time with Cross to need any more of that. No one was ever aware of his eating disorders, his height complex, and his hatred for his delicate and even feminine appearance. Self-esteem was not on his vocabulary all thanks to those years of "odd jobs" to survive on the streets and later on help pay for an uninterested Cross's bad habits before trickery his evolved. He hated himself too, yet it was not as if he could help it, he never asked to be born that way, or to have grown on the streets never knowing when the next meal would come or if it would come at all. It always pained him to be made fun of however he never showed it to anyone, thanks to his time with his father Mana, his training as a clown, and his methods of survival, even the time at the side of his master Marian Cross, Allen had learned to hide it all in. But that still didn't mean it didn't hurt. It hurt to the core of his soul in a way no one could ever phantom, not his dear best friend: the female exorcist Lenalee Lee, nor his big brother figure: Lavi (the Bookman apprentice), not even his loyal companion (the master's golden golem) Timcanpy. But what hurt the most was his very own foolishness. He knew it was wrong, but that would never stop him from overexerting his body to the keep his body in shape, from making his way to thru cold halls searching for desolate washrooms where the punishment to his body continued. It had taken everything he had had to compose himself afterward, and yet here he was once more, turning his stomach at the memory of hurtful remarks. He had long grown accustomed to the now daily routine, "train till you drop and only keep in the absolutely necessary to survive," he had tried to reduce his eating habits too but was soon caught by an unsuspecting, happy-go-lucky cook. Every night, once everyone else had gone off, it hurt to feel all alone, it hurt to the point of insanity to keep his frail mask on display, to hold on the cheerful charade and not break down, however, his pride would not concede. In those nights when the pain was too much to bear he would quietly and privately give voice to his complaints, while slowly mutilating himself, piece by piece he filled the white canvas of his skin with new marks, the same marks that could ease the pain of his heart if only for a moment. Slowly he would watch as the ruby drops would fall from the newly opened gateways to the ground and hope for the day when they would fall for the last time. At those times he would wholeheartedly wonder why, why did life hate him so much, only to have the image of his father he kept in his mind repeat that last promise the two had made.

-I'm tired and lonely- he would often mutter in a quiet murmur.

"Don't stop, keep walking."

-But to where do I walk? I don't want to go on.

"Don't stop, keep walking."

-I wish I could give up, I wish I could go with you, why can't I go with you?

"Don't stop, keep walking."

At those lonely times when tears would run down his cheeks like little diamonds, and he had to hold himself up in an attempt to stop his heart from breaking any further it was when he most resented his fate and his cursed existence which brought nothing but disgrace to those around him. At those times he would curl himself in a tiny spot and left his sorrow flow free always aware and frightened of the nightmares that were sure to come. It was during one of those moments he rediscovered the pleasantness of another's warmth at the side of an unexpected companion. At first, it was nothing more than a tiny spark to distract themselves from the horrors of battle, nothing more than seemingly harsh words always hanging in the air silently filled with pleas and comforts well hidden behind every thorn. To knowing onlookers, it always seemed odd, an unusual type of friendship of some sort between a broken, cursed, little clown and an equally damaged stone-faced samurai. It didn't take long before words called for something more, and little by little the spark became a flame, and the flame gave way to a full-scale fire, a fire that consumed each other's minds, occupying every waking moment of both until one-day rationality was no more. To the public eye, their contact and conversation was nothing more than childish plays yet to each other it was so much more, it was concern and affection, it was support and comprehension, and so many questions only meant for the two. Their love was a private thing only free behind closed doors, and deserted halls away from judgmental murmurs and prying eyes. Behind closed doors, they were neither samurai nor clown, not exorcists, not tools of war, they were just too lovers and their love, a love as pure as snow and yet as passionate and ardent as the fire that burnt in their veins whenever eyes met, and lips clashed. A midst the horrors of battle there was a place where they found happiness, a home at long last. Slowly they became each other's refugee, blissful happiness that came whenever bodies connected so deeply that it became almost impossible to tell where one ended and the other began. They became each other's strengths and weaknesses, and eventually, they healed each other's wounds and filled each other's emptiness, completing one another like two perfect pieces of the same puzzle. Now the only thing that was amiss for their absolute happiness was the fruit of their love, a dream that sadly both understood could not be, neither nature nor their god could possibly see it fit, or so they thought as they continued their loving endlessly. Ah! But little did they know, destiny is one mischievous, little being, one that can hear heart's deepest desires, and fulfill the most precious of dreams, except, everything comes with a price, and like it or not they live discovering just that.


	2. Chapter 2-A Silly Dream

A.N. - Hello everyone! Ōkami here! If you are reading this, meaning you probably liked the intro chapter and stayed around for more, or if you just stumbled upon this one and completely ignored the other that's fine too, anyway thank you so very much from the very bottom of my heart. As I said before, I'm a newbie writer, this is not my first story, but it is the first I publish, I know I probably have tons of mistakes, and I'd honestly appreciate any reviews and advice you could give me. I honestly hope this story can be up to your standards and that you have as good a time reading it as I had writing it. So here comes chapter 2, I honestly hope it is any good, the style is probably different, and today we're following different characters but I promise it is all for the sake of the story and I hope it'll somehow make sense… soon enough. Still, I bet my tail you'll get who it is I'm talking about within the first lines of each story, is not really guesswork but it was a little confusing to write.

A.A.N-Ok. Briefly now before I forget, or as briefly as I can be that is, anyway… ok, so we have a new editor, YAY. So everyone, say hi to (the temporary and almost forced editor) the lovely "Rome" (that's as close as it gets to his real name so yeah another weirdo like me who likes word games sorry XD) anyway sorry I took forever to post the new chapter.

ʢ ▪ᴥ▪ ʔ-Disclaimer Time… dear Rome, if you would please do the honors!

 _ **人**_ \- Tch. Fine. - So, lucky for us, Ōkami AKA the lazy fleabag, doesn't own D. Gray Man or any of its characters, just the plot of this particular work and we hope it is enjoyable. (Wait. Plot? Which plot? Does this even have a plot?)

ʢ ▪ᴥ▪ ʔ- …Oi, Oi. No need to be cruel, I know I suck, but I still tried… Ok, we're off now. Happy readings everyone, enjoy!

...

 **Chapter 2- A Silly Dream**

...

"Moyashi, we need to talk."

That was what the young samurai intended to say, what he resolved to do, and had even practiced for on his way to the room he was forced to share with a particular albino creature. "I just need him to agree to flee the order for a while, nothing more nothing less," Thought the young samurai, reasoning with himself that it was all for the good of the secret mission entrusted to him. It was a good start, a simple phrase, five words to begin a civilized conversation that could end up saving all humanity, or maybe just one stupid albino creature. He didn't really care about one way or the other; it was all for the mission... (Or so he told himself.) And everything seemed to be going just fine until he opened that cursed door and his eyes landed on a particular sight that sent his mind crashing down, like a tower of cards under a gust of wind, and he was doomed. There, right before his very eyes, stood the most exotic/enticing creature on earth, the cause of all his internal struggles, happily engaged in shamelessly flaunting his oh-so-well-endowed attributes with the evil intent of provoking him (Or so the samurai deduced. Anyway…) "Just look at that damn succuba...succubus...or was it incubus? Bah, who the hell cares about such minor details anyway?" - Swing...swing - "Tch. Damned brat, shaking his ass in the air like there isn't a problem in the world." Grumbles the samurai internally as he attentively observes the albino: pale body propped up on all fours, head pocking underneath the bed, merrily swaying gracious/delicate hips from side to side, sporting NOTHING but a thin, wet, and much too short nightshirt. "Evil… this damned, cursed brat is temptation incarnate. Is this a joke of the gods for my lack of faith? Is this perhaps a test to my will? Or is it a test to my manhood? What the fuck is it? What is this damned beansprout playing at? What's he trying to do? Just what the hell is this idiotic sprout supposed to be? What are you, some random sex Yōkai haunting me? And why me? What the fuck did I ever do to deserve this?" Thought the samurai, his eyes following the albino's every move as if in a trance, not missing a sway, all the while swearing/ranting about cruel gods and shameless, perverted, idiotic bean sprouts conspiring against his manhood and honor. (Not really. The poor albino was simply searching for his mischievous golden golem, who decided to play him a joke by taking the last clean/dry nightshirt of the two that the kind inn-keeper oh-so-generously provided, and for which he was very grateful. "This old lady is a kind soul, with bad sight, but kind none the less." Had thought the albino upon ending his explanations and promptly being ushered to take a shower.

-Truly kind indeed- sighed the albino in a hushed voice, suddenly looking at the golden golem, -Why can you not be as kind as the old lady and give me back the shirt? If you do, I'll give you some dango sticks when we go back home. - said the albino, looking dejected and probably looking as pathetic as he felt.

-...- The golem visibly twitched, probably at the prospect of the delicious treat, but then simply faced the other side promptly ignoring the albino.

-I'll give you half my dangos for a day. - Tried the albino putting on his sweetest smile he knew could charm just about anyone... Well, no such luck today.

*still no response*

-Fine...half my dangos for two days? - Tried the albino again, flinching at the possibility of having to miss half his favorite dessert for two days.

*still no reply from the golem, and so, the one-sided conversation went on unperceived by the samurai.*

Oh, and the golem just so happened to be hiding underneath the bed. Oh, what odd luck the poor albino had! First; getting left behind by, more like kicked out of, the train after arguing nonstop with a stupid samurai wannabe, then losing his luggage to a pool of mud thanks to the continuation of said argument and having to walk for hours all the while continuing the argument. After walking all day and finding a small village with an old Inn, being told the inn had one last room available and therefore having to not just room with the most dangerous, unstable human ever, namely the idiot samurai wannabe but having to share a bed too. *Terrible news when you're a certain albino that might get night terrors because of a dark past and kick anything and anyone outta the bed just because why not?* As a lucky break getting some spare clothes from the innkeeper and a relaxing bath just to get summoned into a fight because Akuma decided to show up, forget to have changed, get wrecked destroying Akuma, caught in the rain, and lost... *Ok, maybe getting lost is not unusual but still.* ...lost and eventually scolded by townsfolk after being confused with a girl wandering out in the dark, alone and running head-on into a dangerous situation.* The day had been so horrid the albino felt the need to cry and protest, but he didn't. Luckily, the inn-keeper had been kind enough to spare him another of her grandchild's discarded, old nightshirts, and even if they were a tad too short and frilly for his taste, at the very least, they were dry and long-sleeved, so they at least provided some cover for his innocence arm. Ah! But then Timcanpy had felt the imperious need to play naughty, so the albino was AGAIN down to no spare changes. And so, an albino shamefully reduced to freeze his rear half to death while begging on hands and knees for a certain golden golem to take some pity and return his clothes before he got sick, with the promise of sharing half his ration of Matarashi dango for a week no less! Was the sight the samurai walked into. But of course that the samurai could have known none of that. After all, he wasn't paying attention to the innkeeper's rant about grandchildren and flimsy albinos the size of ten-year-olds; and then when the Akuma thing happened he was nowhere to be found; and in all honesty, he couldn't really care less about the golem's behavioral issues. Hence his random assumptions. (./?) And so, ignorant to the albino's struggles and musings, the samurai felt the sudden need to thank the gods, and the universe and all else one could give thanks to; for the existence of rain, clumsiness, messed luggage, old ladies that couldn't distinguish genders of flimsy looking albinos providing them with feminine looking nightwear. That, and for the foolishness of gullible, naive albinos being either too kind to protest or too stupid even to notice anything; like being lent female clothes despite being a male, or the dirty looks he was getting from the other guests at the inn the moment he walked in messed and muddied as he was. Why? Don't ask him, he wouldn't really know or care, he, being the simple man he is just felt the sudden need to thank someone, and so he did.)

Still, back on the room, things were heating up quick and going a bit wilder than normal. The moment the samurai laid eyes on the albino's ridiculous posture words like "succubus, incubus, Jorōgumo, siren" or actually the name of any other mythical creature known to "lure men" and/or be "sexually depraved" crossed his mind in a flash. And all because of a ridiculous albino that seemed ooze sensuality with his oddly alluring pose that had something akin to a feline. In fact, the resemblance was so uncanny that the samurai almost expected to suddenly see a fluffy tail hypnotically sway along playful hips or furry, slicked-back, cat ears that would twitch at the slightest of sounds atop the white head. Truth be told, he'd always secretly observed, carefully waiting for the moment where all his suspicions would be confirmed, and he'd finally see some sort of inhumane appendages popping out of the albino. Then, when he'd finally seen them, he'd drag the kid around to show everyone else and proudly say, "I told you so, I knew he wasn't human!" with a gigantic grin on his face, sanity be damned. That would be the day he'd finally regain his peace of mind, because he knew, the samurai just *knew* that such an enticing creature that could bring even him of all people out of his inner balance and control to connect with his most lowly, primitive, carnal desires couldn't possibly be a human. No, it was unnatural, impossible, it made no sense that a human, and a male to boot, could be so bewitchingly beautiful that he could sway men and women into his sickeningly sweet trap. The kid HAD to be some sort of Yōkai wandering the mortal plane to allure humans, driving them insane with his beauty, just waiting for them to naturally fall into sinful oblivion, of that much the samurai was sure. (Well, was he now?) "Tch. It's no wonder the womanizing general the sprout calls his master always sent him away and obsessively surrounded himself with only beautiful things. Who the hell could cohabit in close quarters with this...Yōkai... and keep his sanity intact?"

A few more sways, an indecently revealing stretch, and a happy victory cry of "got ya'!" as the albino wiggled seductively under the bed, and the samurai was damned. Unwillingly, the samurai uttered a quiet, appreciative grunt instead of the overly rehearsed speech he had so tediously prepared, and at that moment, something stroke him like a thunderbolt that seemed to set the pit of his stomach on an odd fire that warmed him but didn't burn as the regular fire did. Finally, the samurai understood two of the greatest mysteries he had encountered in his life; one: every male's deep adoration for sexiness, and two: people's fixation coaxing some sort of reaction out of the young albino. It was such a simple answer he almost believed himself a fool for not seeing it before. By deductive reasoning, the samurai understood that human male's "peculiar" behavior around "sexiness" was nothing but natural principles at work. By the laws of nature, reproductive instincts link the display of "sensuality" with "approachability," and "availability" associating it all with the desire to feel pleasure. "...hence the reason sexy stuff is, has been, and will forever be every human male's weakness... Do you get that Yuu-chan?" Echoes faintly the voice of a certain bookman in training known as the Baka Usagi inside the samurai's head as he recalls another pointless "educational talk" the rabbit dared to put him thru. It was part of a stupid conversation about sexuality, or more like another failed attempt at figuring out whether the samurai possessed any reproductive instincts at all since he never reacted to anything or anyone, or so the samurai led them on, even he was not immune to a certain albino. On the other hand, the people's need to coax some sort of reaction out of the albino, was not much different from the samurai's own urge to rile, or the rabbit's tendency to annoy, because, just like well-fitted sexy outfits, the albino's honest expressions too, provided the utmost pleasure. However, the dissimilarity stood in the mere fact that; sexy outfits, no matter how good, are easily found everywhere; however, honest reactions from the albino were so rare they could rival the appearance of shooting stars and powerful innocence accommodators "in terms of rarity." And all because, from the beginning, the albino had always been on guard even around "comrades," always wearing his annoyingly "polite" mask that irked the samurai off, which made his honest reactions the most sincere and enjoyable. Suddenly the samurai had an idea, "The Baka Usagi would surely laugh his ass off for days if he saw this," he thought. Taking a moment to praise his brilliant idea, the samurai smirked and set the plan in motion by uttering a low whistle. Upon hearing the sound and without a second thought, the albino stood to attention, or better said, tried to stand. (In reality he yelped and tried to stand, but instead, he only managed to hit his head on the bed's bottom, stumble with the nightshirt's hem, lost balance. While ending up splattered on the floor, the albino accidentally exposed his pale/naked rear, and eventually struggled on to the seiza position befitting of geishas, all along facing the bed and looking like a frightened cat. And all because hearing the unexpected yet awfully familiar sound had startled the albino to the point of shaking but with his pride, or whatever remained of it, on the line, he was not about to give anyone any more teasing material if he could help it. So he reared in his "erratic" reactions, summoned his best poker face and turned around to glare at whoever had disturbed him only to freeze on the spot the moment he gazed at the familiar face of a certain samurai. Meanwhile said samurai amused himself questioning the albino's humanity in the confines of his mind while his "outer self" busied laughing his butt off.) "His hair is puffing, and his back is arching up. Maybe he truly is a cat in disguise," thought the samurai, openly laughing until he noticed the dangerously cute pout on the albino's face, "No! That's not a pout, it's a glare." scolded the rational side of the samurai mind. "Hey, I know that's meant to be a glare but does he even realizes what his face really looks like when he does that?" countered another voice inside the samurai's head. "You bet he does! He's temptation incarnate remember? Hell, that might be intentional for all we know, better be careful around that!" replied the voice of rationality only to get drowned by a now very flustered albino's angry rants.

-Damn it you... you... Baka. What the hell was that about? You almost killed me with that scare. - Complains the albino until his gaze reached his partner's face again, noticing the other's expression was no longer one of amusement. Instead, the sharp, beautiful face had reverted to the usual blankness; however, the cerulean eyes still burnt deep with something the samurai desperately tried to hide but wasn't fast enough to do so giving the albino a chance to notice. Then, almost as if in a trance, the samurai advances the couple of strides that separates them, hastily picks up a very shocked and shaky albino.

-Hey, i-if t-this's 'bout the m-mess, I-I'll c-clean a-all of it m-myself 's-soon's I get my o-other s-set of c-clothes f-from Tim.- stutters the albino thru titering teeth as the cold gets to him further now that he has been made to stand and the cold, wet clothing sticks to him like a second and very uncomfortable skin. However, the samurai says nothing and lets the thin, white arm he is holding go and instead steadies the albino in place by hooking an arm around the other's thin waist, using his free hand to lift the other's soft, boyish face by the chin until their eyes meet. At that moment the world freezes, or maybe it's just them, the samurai loses his battle against sanity and the albino forgets his cold and his fears but can't, for the life of him, stop shaking in his place. Still, everything seemed like time itself had stopped, and the world had been enveloped in a deafening silence, and cerulean gazed attentively into silver as the samurai's face moved down to meet the albino's until their noses touched and their breaths mixed, never breaking eye contact, as if charming the young albino into submission. "Give yourself to me, submit to me" cerulean eyes seem to command. "Wha…Wait, Wait. What? What is this? What's going on? Did he finally snap under the pressure of the missions? Or maybe, is this his revenge for the tea I stole from him? Did he even notice that? Or was it something else? What did I do? What do I do?" panics the albino's inner-self, while his body freezes over, and his mind races a storm trying to figure out what on earth is happening, and what to do about it. Seeing no other way out the albino uses his last resort, "pleading." Everyone know pity doesn't work with the samurai; however, with some luck, the albino can annoy his enough that'll shock him enough to wake him so he'll want to let go, or at least that is the plan so sucking up all his shame the albino gets out his best kicked-puppy-eyes attack and tells the samurai. - Kanda, please let go. I'm all wet and dirty, and I need to go shower and change again before I get sick. And now so do you.- Says the albino in his most annoying, neediest voice pairing it with the sweetest most innocent face, and cutest eyes he can make (because he knows of the other's aversion for cute/sweet things.) All the while trying to wiggle his way out of the other's embrace and much too late to notice his fatal mistake. "Wait, did I just say what I think I said?" lazily thinks the albino, all too busy to ponder on his words until he feels that the other has strengthened his hold instead of letting go and realization dawns on him. "Oh, no, he took it the wrong way, damn it what to do now?" panics the albino once again, and suddenly, soft, warm lips crash into iced, chapped ones and the albino freezes once more. Taking the albino's moment of confusion as an assurance to continue, the samurai moves, he shifts his face trying to find a more comfortable position and attacks once again. Slowly mismatched, thin hands shakily reach up and push lightly at the samurai's chest as if afraid of the possible outcomes.

-H-hey, wha-what is the meaning of this?- Utters the albino after some time, ignoring as best as he can the pressure on his lips, as he slowly unfreezes and his hands begin to push away with more strength only to get captured by a much bigger and pushed up and against the wall, giving the other more room to close in. They stay like that, one struggling closer, one pushing away until their eyes meet and the albino stops moving at all, completely frozen once again and accidentally further encouraging the samurai. At first, it is all no more than chaste kisses; tender pressure, cautiously/experimentally assessing the situation but eventually encouraged by the lack of proper rejection, and notwithstanding the awkwardness, the kiss deepens. (./?) Soft lips rub themselves clumsily on smaller, sweeter ones; however just as soon it started, the moment that made the samurai forget the reason for his visit, breaks at the need of breath or perhaps the lack of response. Gladly taking the break and confused beyond salvation, the albino reels slightly back, cocks his head to the side, and puzzled, silver eyes wearily examine cerulean ones. As things unfold, the albino grew more and more worried about his comrade. As much as they bicker and fight, he still considered the other boy a close friend and knew that the behavior he is demonstrating is unbecoming of the samurai, so now he's worried about him. So he searches those eyes for anything that might betray something is wrong. He knows it is not an Akuma he is looking at since his eye hasn't activated, nor is it a Noah since no reaction to his innocence hand has happened and that only leaves few choices from which to pick. Either the moment is but an odd dream, some cruel joke, or revenge, anything but the reality because reality would mean something the albino knows better than to hope for, yet as much as he searches, the cerulean eyes betray nothing of the sorts. Finally, as the realization of what he is doing, or more like not doing, hits home. The albino hastily attempts to escape only to be stopped by the firm arm around his waist tightening its grip even more and clumsy lips planting themselves atop his smaller ones over and over again, silently pleading for something, that even if the samurai does not quite yet understand what it is that he seeks, the albino does, and that is all they need. Taking some pity on the other boy's struggle, the albino parts his lips slightly, allowing entrance to a curious tongue that tasted of soba, and green tea with mint to his mouth that tasted of dango and also "green tea with mint." (All because curiosity got the best of him and he had secretly stolen a few sips of the samurai's cup whenever he thought no one was looking.) Hesitantly, mismatched arms that used to push away now sneak around the samurai's neck, and hands entangle themselves with long ribbons of raven-colored hair locking them together, closer.

Athe exploration of the now more familiar mouth goes on, curious cerulean eyes open and begin to wander around, first studying the other face. Carefully they study the white eyelashes that tremble softly, equally white eyebrows furrowed into a small soft frown, the carved pentacle on the boy's forehead looks painful yet beautiful. eventually stopping at a cute, boyish cheek adorned with a red curse mark. The cheeks look so soft and plump that the samurai can't stop himself from caressing one lightly with the tip of his nose, turning it almost as crimson as the curse mark carved into it at attention. An equally curious hand goes and places itself at the center of the albino's chest as if asking permission before moving around, softly caressing the neck and clumsily tugging at the collar of the nightshirt until it stands loose enough to expose a soft, pale shoulder.

"He truly is beautiful," thinks the samurai, lazily dragging his hand downwards, exploring the lithe body. Slowly, the hand makes its way from the small neck back to the center of the chest, down to the belly caressing well-toned abs, towards a side running over a soft yet sharp hip, finally coming to a stop on a strong thigh, picking it up and racing it until it reaches his own hip. Hooking the thigh over his hip and caressing it softly, the samurai continues on, putting that same hand underneath the nightshirt's hem, backtracking his way underneath the nightshirt, in direct contact with the soft, pale skin, pulling along the shirt until it is high enough to expose all it is supposed to cover but he does not remove it, not just yet at least. Instead, the samurai's hips trust slightly forward and he carefully pushes the albino and himself onto the bed, engrossing in the view now beneath him. The body squirming beneath his own is like a Greek statue: pale, soft and beautifully toned; however, it is very much alive and covered in so many scars mapping tales of oppressing hardship and unimaginable strength. "So opposite yet so similar, both of us have seen the depths of hell itself yet neither of us can die nor escape it, but only you have the scars to back your story." He thinks while admiring the view with a small pang of jealousy soon overshadowed by the deep admiration he feels for the smaller boy and completely ignoring the embarrassed pleading of the poor albino that begs as if his whole life depended on it, and for all, he knows it probably does, for the samurai to stop.

\- H-hey. S-stop d-doing that, i-it's t-too e-embarrassing, pleasedon'tstaresomuch.- Pleads/stutters the albino, hiding his face in his mismatched hands attempting to hide his shame and the tears now pooling at the corner of his eyes threatening to spill at any moment. Meanwhile, the samurai busies himself in fighting a pointless battle on WHAT to do and HOW to do it; on whether giving in to instinct should come before or after the mission. "The serious talk should be first and other stuff later, or else things will get messy." Says the rational part of the samurai's brain that is still functioning past the lust, and it is an almost brilliant plan, really, if only he had more experience on restraining the "natural instincts" that he had never even bothered with acknowledging before meeting the albino... However; fate, being the mischievous being it is, had other things in mind. Before any decision was ever even reached, the samurai gets distracted AGAIN, this time marveling on how much more gorgeous the albino becomes now that his usually pale skin is flushed a healthy shade of pink and his lithe figure lies entangled in the long ribbons of the samurai's raven-colored hair.

-I'm starting to wonder whether or not the rest of you would taste as sweet as your lips. - Mutters the samurai as his own lips hover over the skin of the albino's neckline in a low, lusty tone that sends pleasant shivers down the albino's back.

-That's unexpected of you to say, you know? And here I thought you hated sweets. - Teases the albino shakily, instinctively attempting to hide his shame and embarrassment under his usual "spunky" self –And besides. Last I heard, everyone was betting "I" would be the one to utter things like that to someone yet here you are, being the one to say those very things everyone thought you wouldn't even know about to me of all people. – Comments the albino playfully/nervously between pants and laughter, suddenly reaching seemingly impossibly high pitches as one of his inner-thighs falls victim to further "exploration" of curious, elegant, and surprisingly clumsily fingers.

-Tch. Shut up Baka; you're breaking my concentration- grunts the samurai barely audibly before awkwardly clearing his throat and rushing to say –No, I mean, you're spoiling the mood... No, damn it, that's not it either. - Half causing the albino to start shaking in poorly hidden laughter. The other half was due to the big and surprisingly soft hand that had found its way towards a round-and-rosy-back-cheek, as they spoke and began softly kneading at the tender flesh, causing the albino to end up a giggling mess before freezing up AGAIN. This time it was probably because of the samurai's famous death glare that some say could put true demons to shame, or maybe it was because of the exploration of more private grounds, but that, only the albino knew the answer to, and it just happens to be one of the things he would rather never tell no matter how much the other would ask later. Perhaps as punishment for the transgressions or to prove his theory, the samurai's tongue traveled downwards, leaving wet trails all over until it reached its target. A small, pink nipple fell victim the samurai's tongue as he licked, kissed, sucked, and traced circles around it, bringing it to full perkiness, coaxing sweet mewls and pleasured moans out of the albino's lips. But before anything else can happen, the samurai suddenly remembers his mission and inspiration hits him.

-If we could stay like this; together, forever, I would ask for nothing more. My one and only wish is that the night would never end, that the sun would not rise again, so that we could stay together, for all eternity. If only we were fast enough, we could run away and escape this hell. - quietly recites the samurai, stopping his abuse against the albino's nipple in favor of murmuring the familiar words against the albino's neck, while hands continue roaming around.

-I wish for the same, but that wouldn't happen for us now would it? - Replies the albino just as softly sounding wishful yet disappointed at the same time. -We're never so...lucky as to get our wishes granted.- continues the albino in a sad, longing tone, eyes turning a particular shade of crystalline, watery silver with sad tears, almost breaking the samurai's heart. However, the samurai steels his resolve and goes on, hoping that the new development would grant him the break he so needs to carry out "his" mission, the one secretly entrusted to him and him alone by the supervisor.

-I know that but still, wouldn't it be better if we could… I don't know if we could just run; get away from all of this. - Says the samurai, slightly sobered up, suddenly stopping all movements. "That's it I've said it, now I just have to push his right buttons and convince him to get away for a while, away from Central, from the damned Inspector, and especially away from that stupidly annoying, loyal dog of a secretary." Thinks the samurai, internally smirking, proud of himself, yet his face still betrays nothing.

-But we can't. I wish it would be possible, but you know they wouldn't let us. They need us. They wouldn't give up their destroyer of time and their strongest warrior up so easily. They'd kill us themselves first before letting us go until the war is over or we're both dead, and maybe even then they still wouldn't let us go. Maybe they'll try to bring you back again. Ha! I bet you they'd love to do that to me too; they probably itch to get me all cut up and ready for experiments. Who knows, maybe they'll even try to breed us like a pair of animals, they won't even care that were both males. I can almost see it happen. They'll probably say something like "let us make stronger exorcist," and "It's for the greater good...blah, blah, blah."- Says the albino, a little dark humor coloring tone –After all, we were "born" to fight for the greater good, weren't we? We are nothing but sacrifices. - Laughed the albino if a little hysterically, -We can never be free of this, can we?- he sais, while tears finally began traveling down mismatched, pale cheeks.

-Then let me be the one who fights. You stay here; I will fight in your place,- Says the samurai, surprising even himself, tone heavy with urgency and worry.

"I'll fight, and then I'll come back to you as long as you want me to. Just let me take care of you, you stay and let me do the fighting, let me protect you, please." Is what he wants to beg while embracing the albino, softly patting the mane of white hair and methodically placing small, placating kisses on the snowy locks, conscience heavy with guilt seeing what he's just caused for the sake of the so-called mission.

-But I... I can't do that, even if I sometimes wish I could leave all this to someone else; I can't, especially not you, this is my duty, I swore to Mana that I'd destroy Akuma and that I'd keep moving forward. I can't stay still. I'm afraid to go, and even if it terrifies me to bring others down with me... I'd go crazy if you were to go alone. This mess is my burden, and I will be the one to end it, I'm sorry you can't complete your mission this time, but my decision was made long ago. You can't stop me from going, and if I can't prevent you from going down with me, then we'll go down together. I know it's selfish of me, but I couldn't stand it if you... I couldn't go on if you were to...no, I can't even say it, but there's something else I can tell you, but not now, it'll be a surprise. Make it out of this, and I promise that when this is all over, I'll give you the best of gifts, but you have to come out of this alive. Oh, I know I, have an idea! Let's come back together, just you and I... let's come here again one day! We'll build a small house in the clearing we saw the other day, remember? Right next to the lake, we'll build a place for you and me and fill it with many things, and we'll make a home here! Ah, but we have to hurry then because it's not good to keep others waiting. - Said the albino frantically, a spark of pure, raw madness burning deep within his silver eyes. Seeing that, the samurai had to give up and accept failure, and how could he go on? Manipulating the poor boy any more would only serve to further damage the already weak links holding the boy's sanity, or whatever remained of it at this stage of the war. So the samurai gave up, and instead, bowed to use all the remains of his life-force in protecting the albino. "Return the favor," his conscience told him, as he kept on petting and cuddling the albino, only separating himself from the boy a little to see his face and engrave it deep within his mind. And surprisingly it seemed as if the albino was doing the exact same thing as if he too realized their time together was coming to an imminent end.

-Please don't you keep me waiting forever too. Ok, Yuu? - said the albino in a quiet whisper, his eyes once again clouded with a spark of sheer, raw madness only life like theirs could create. Slowly, the samurai's eyes studied the boyish face more determinedly than ever, for the first time taking notice of all the little details he had never truly "seen" before. For the first time, the samurai noticed the way silver eyes seemed shine violet if seen from a certain angle and closeness, or how the curse mark lines differed in size and color depending on when and how they are seen. He also noticed that beneath the madness and the determination, hidden deep within those silver eyes there were always hints of fear, regret, despair, uncertainty, and...Love? "Who is it that you love so deeply that even the darkness that attempts to swallow your soul cannot swallow that love? Who is it that's got to your heart? Is there even any space left in it for me?" Thought the samurai sorrowfully before little by little everything became distorted and his mind was plagued with different memories. Memories of other times, other places, and...

...

...

="...Before the...petals fall...te...ll..."

...

...

="I'll wait for you... forever..."

...

...

="Hey...Do you know this flower?"

== "It points...toward...heaven."

...

...

="Man I'd like to see that..."

="The whole field in full bloom..."

== "Someday the two of us could see it together..."

="Really? Even if we're both old and gray?"

== "...just you wait."

="I'll wait...forever..."

...

...

Confusion floods his mind, overwriting everything but the image of an innocent, boyish face and maddened silver eyes until that too ultimately faded away, disappearing into nothingness as his mind goes blank...

...

...

He's heard "them," the voices in his head that speak of people he does not yet know, things he cannot yet understand or even care about. His mind is far too busy for that, there are other things to learn first, or so the "other" voice in his head says.

"It's still too early dear child.

Sleep for now that I watch over you.

Soon it'll be time for you to awaken,

To that world so dark,

You'd wish you could sleep again.

Sleep some more dear one.

Soon it'll be all over.

Sleep while you can,

And I'll watch over you.

I will keep you safe."

Sings a quiet voice. It is an odd voice, calming but also very sad, so sad it breaks his heart. And yet he can't find it in himself to ignore it even if he is too "deep" in his dreams, so he listens on and lets the depressing yet beautiful voice lull him deeper into the quiet darkness that makes up his entire world.

...

...

He's heard them again the same conversation, always full of broken phrases, static, unknown people and things, and annoying voices. He's grown tired of them, but he can't ignore them, so he listens on sometimes and catches bits and pieces of the conversations that the other voice in his head often tells him have or haven't happened just yet. This time it is the future he is learning, or so the other voice says, is not the voice that sings or the one talking about flowers. It is different yet slightly more familiar than the others since it is the most common one; however, it is pretty cryptic and odd, so he sometimes ignores it and follows the conversations like the one currently going on.

-...and the third case is... Um, I see. Name: ***

Appearance: Black katana.

Category: Equipment type innocence.

Abilities: creates illusions. Can also produce a second katana when invoking a special attack.

Attack name: ***** *****, ****** ******.

Compatible: *** ***.

Other info: draws attack power from its compatible one's life force. -Reads an obnoxiously technical voice.

-Um, interesting... So two equipment type and a parasitic one? All of them under the age of twenty... None of them are generals... And one of the equipment ones is a second? Well, quite exciting indeed. - Murmurs the same annoying voice -Tell me then, ******, do we have any other info on subjects ****** and*********? What about the evolution of********? Can we replicate it on the others?

-No, not yet sir, we are still studying the causes and effects of the developments...-begins another annoying voice just to get interrupted by yet another more annoying one.

-It might be possible- starts the third annoying voice -but the risks are rather high, if it were to go wrong and they couldn't withstand it, we could lose other subjects as well again, and that would be rather devastating to our forces...

-Then we might have to try it upon other resources, is not as if it is the first time it has been attempted...besides the only three known cases that have been presented have all ended as success and...- says yet another voice somewhere further away.

-Well, we can wait some more, after all, we'll have the ideal subjects if things go well on their course with **** ******-says the first annoying technical voice.

"What's with all the static?" Thinks the voice in the dark as the sounds fade and give place to yet another annoyance.

...

...

-So, "unspecified, outdated data" Uh? Are you sure there won't be any issues if they find us out?-says a hushed voice.

-They asked for the info on their cases that the science division might have. That is technically all we have, so that's what we gave them. He might be a big shot, but I'm not about to sell those children out to serve as guinea pigs for this bastard entertainment, they do more than enough already risking their lives battling monsters, they are just children, how can they expect us to treat them as mere tools or weapons? I can't even if they execute me, I just can't...

-That is all right, you were right to do what you've done, -says another voice, tone filled with many things unknown to the voice in the darkness. -Officially that is all one would find on the files about their innocence, -continues the same voice -however, even if is not "official knowledge" and cannot be scientifically proven, I just know there is more to it. The Innocence, it is alive. At least I get the hunch that that is what has been going on and we've overlooked it all this time. Why else would it have a heart that if destroyed would render all others useless?

-...-

-Anyway, I believe it is alive and that it might be choosing its most loyal, useful pawns to wield it. Don't you find it odd? Before the professed destroyer of time showed up and evolved, all other innocence would either reject unrelated "subjects," and even if they were compatible before, it'd turn them into fallen ones. But then the innocence that was destroyed by that Noah, before, all of them turned to dust; however, they have started evolving. First, it was that boy, then the European branch supervisor's sister, and most recently "Him..."

-You might be right but let's not forget even if they are powerful, the generals are even bigger powerhouses so why not save them too if it's strong warriors that the innocence is seeking?

-Those three children have fought admirably and overpassed "human" boundaries quite a few times... I think they are the special ones, chosen by God himself even among the chosen ones, so the innocence loves them enough to protect them and forgive their occasional slip-ups because they probably have what it takes to wield innocence in its purest form and...

-Quite the interesting little theory you have there, care to share? - says the first annoying technical voice coldly towards the whispering group.

-God have mercy on us. - says one of the whisperers even quieter than before.

-It's all right it'll all be over soon, you'll see.-says another one in an equally faint voice.

...

...

"Be over? So what if it'll all be over soon?" wonders the voice in the darkness as he ponders on why should he care about problems, or the voices, or the flower before him? It's not like it would change anything, is it? It is all just another dream, isn't it?

...

...

Some dreams later, he learns what it is that they are all fussing about. It's called Innocence, it is a valuable thing, a weapon of sorts and apparently, he has it too. He knows it is "important," and that he should learn more, because he now knows there is much more to this innocence, which will apparently be a sword for him, than what others can see. He knows that on a near future his whole life will be a wreck thanks to this knowledge, but even if he somehow knows, he does not understand, after all his mind is still "young." All he knows is that there'll be "pain," so much pain it'll rip him apart over and over and over again until he pleads for death. But death won't come for him, all because of the damned scientists, their cursed experiments, the innocence thing, and that stupid idiot he doesn't even know but already dislikes since he'll be the most dangerous of them all. He knows he must reject them, all of it to protect himself... But even if he knows these things, it won't stop them from happening, or so the mysterious voice says. So he'll hate it all, the order that created hell for him "for everyone" his mind corrects. He'll hate the idiot that'll be his undoing, the damned scientists, and their experiments, his existence, all of it; he'll hate it to no end. But what he hates the most is that feeling of longing in his heart that hurts so badly he sometimes can't breathe.

"-Why does it hurt so much?

-Why does it hurt to not remember anything?

-Who is that person I see in that cold room?

-Who are those other people that appear in my dreams?

-Why does it hurt to see them and not remember them?

-Who is she talking to?

-Why does he look so sad?

-Why does he cry? Why? WHY?"

The questions appear in his mind one after another, over and over again until it all goes off and his mind shuts down flashing intermittent visions of past and future. Memories of soft, light-brown hair and painted, plump lips curled up into hope-filled smiles. Images of hot ivory skin, white hair, and saddened, maddened, silver eyes that dimly sparkle with a touch of agony, fear, and something else, something that pangs at his heart whenever he sees them and realizes all of that might not ever even be real, it might never happen and that drives him mad.

...

...

"Mugen." That is the name of the "Innocence" the voices spoke of, the name of the sword, his sword that could be either his salvation or his ultimate doom. "Mugen" that is the one word he must try remember.

...

Mugen POV

...

Mugen is a sword, but more than that, Mugen is a living consciousness, capable of emotions, so many emotions yet the prevailing one is always love. Mugen loves many things like the fellow innocence fragments, the heart of innocence, and also being loved and cherished by an accommodator. Mugen has a special accommodator, one that loves, and treats with a level of affection, trust, and respect only he can provide, so Mugen loves him and supports him completely. Yes! Mugen loves illusions and the accommodator so very much. But there's only one thing in this world that Mugen loves, even if just slightly more, than "illusions" and the accommodator, and all else together, and that is tricking anything and anyone around, especially the accommodator, with the illusions and watch them struggle. Watch him struggle to keep his cool in front of a certain illusion that is currently Mugen's favorite. Oh, how Mugen loves the array of colors that grace his beautiful face whenever he's flustered, or the emotions that appear in his eyes the moment those cerulean orbs land on the cause of his new changes, yes fascinating indeed, if only... "If only he could be so lively more often, then the world would be a better place." thinks Mugen every now and then. It's been far too long since Mugen has seen him smile, or seek company. Not since that day. That cursed day that Mugen remembers all too well. It had started as one of Mugen's happiest days because finally, after an agonizingly long wait "his" soul had finally called, but much to Mugen's despair, that was also the day he'd stopped smiling. Mugen could not forget that day, the day that marked his soul so deeply it hindered their bond, "if only you'd called sooner... If only I'd been stronger you'd have kept living freely smiling warmly for her and for me too, wouldn't you?" Mugen often laments whenever the boy's mind wanders to that day and falls ever so deeper into an endless pit of sorrow, reinforcing his barriers against anyone who dares come too close again. "I'd wish we could leave this place," Mugen often thinks, knowing that staying trapped within the cold, gray walls of the place everyone calls "the order" is bad for the young accommodator's heart. "They are breaking you, and we can't do anything, and then you haven't called for me again. Why won't you come back to me? Wake up, come for me, I can get you out of here, we can even take whoever you want or get rid of it all, just come for me!" Mugen often rants, hoping it'll wake the dormant accommodator's soul once again. Ah! But then if they did leave they'd totally miss it wouldn't they? They'd miss the second chance at happiness offered by the gods to the young accommodator, yes that's right, and it'll soon happen again too. Mugen can feel it, feel the second chance approach. And not just an illusion but the real deal! Oh! How fun it'll all be, to see him, see the cold, expressionless mask eventually fade off and leave him wide open to a world of bliss. Destiny is always the cruelest to her favorite toys but does tend to reward those who win her games and soon his much-deserved prize will appear, but for that, for that Mugen must still work hard in lowering the boy's barriers so that breaking the mask will be the last and final thing to free his spirit. Oh! What a wonderful day it will be when he is finally happy and free, just like before, back to all that time ago with her, before the current darkness and the future masks and the barriers that come after the tragedies, and the ill-tempered façade. Yes, a façade the boy will put up because he's not nearly half as evil as he'll portray himself to be. Yet Mugen wants to break all that because, even if Mugen loves cracking his walls as one would do with a particularly hard-shelled nut, it is much better to see him happy and filled with joy. Yes, the day will come. But for now, "hush," let the boy dream his crazy dreams, sad as they may be, for soon his heart will sing with joy once more. And even if it'll all be over much too soon, again, the true happiness will await them; it will surely come when "the heart" finally graces the world with its presence once more and falls right in place with the beloved mighty knight that must forever stay by his side.

...

 _=Hey, =_ Calls a young, boyish voice from far away.

 **"Who is that?"** Says a small voice shrouded in darkness.

"Someone is calling for you…" replied yet another voice.

 **"That's not what I asked. I asked 'Who?' is calling me."**

"The person waiting for you…"

 **"And WHO exactly is it that's 'waiting' for me and Why?"**

 _-Hey,-_

"That person is calling for you…"

"… **But why? That voice… It sounds… familiar… but… I can't… remember. Why can't I remember?"**

 _-Hey,-_

"... waiting for you…"

 **"WHO IS?"**

" _ **That**_ person is…"

 _-Hey,-_

 **"..."**

 _="…I'll wait...forever..."=_

 **"Who are you?**

 _="… wait...forever..."=_

 **"Stop it"**

"That person is waiting for you"

 **"Stop"**

 _-...are you awake?-_

 **"No"**

 _=please don't keep me waiting, ok?=_

 **"Hold on."**

"See? …is waiting…That person... for you… That person is waiting for you…"

 **"STOP!"**

 _\- are you awake?-_

 **"NO!"**

 _-Hey,-_

 **"Stop talking to me,"**

 _-Perhaps, are you awake?-_

 **"NO. Stop talking."**

 _-Hey-_

 **"Don't talk to me..."**

 _-…are you awake?-_

 **"NO! Don't talk to me. Don't call me. Why are you calling for me?"**

 _-…Hey,-_

" **DON'T"**

"…is waiting…"

...

... _ **-Hey, are you awake? ... Perhaps, are you awake? ... Hey...**_

...

... Well, so much for peace and quiet...

...

Well, that was a long chapter so I hope it can make up for posting it really late… Sorry guys. Anyway, it's time for more author notes, yay.

Ok! So, first things first! Hello everyone, the author here with a few announcements. First of all Hello, I'm still alive, second; see this little thing here (ʢ ▪ᴥ▪ ʔ) is my new icon for dialog or author notes so if you see it somewhere in here, well that's me talking. Rome has one too; ( _ **人**_ ) if other's join us we'll add more to represent us all and let you know.

Third; so, I've been gone forever, I know, I'm terribly sorry, health problems almost got me out of the game but I'm very much still alive, so I have been writing whenever I can, and today I presented you "Chapter 2," which I sincerely hope is to you all's liking, even if I feel that Kanda is very out of character, but that's all because this is nothing but a dream or an illusion influenced by Mugen, and heavily so, so please forgive me if that wasn't to your liking, I'll change it if you'd like, just give me a heads up and I'll fix it in the chapters to come.

Forth; I'm working on chapter 3 already, it is coming along, so hopefully I'll live long enough to bring it up to you. XD

The fourth note is about thanks. I want to express my deepest gratitude to everyone who reads this work and special thanks to those of you who followed/favorited the story or both... hope I didn't miss anyone:

7thScythe

marmag1

Kimmie8629

SaltKink

Bokasuka

Elogane

Silveramethyst13

xXxPhantomxXx

Moonlight-MidnightYaoi

Fifth; a very big bear hug to _**marmag1**_ and _**Alejandra674**_ who kindly took the time to review. Thank you so very much for the advice and encouragement. Everyone, I really, really appreciate it that you read, favorited, followed, and gave your advice and kind comments, it all has kept me moving forward and writing thru many things that almost kept me down for good, so thanks to you all I came back and hopefully I'll bring you all even more chapter soon.

Sixth; in case you doubted it, I'll have you know that yes I do in fact have a tail; I haven't cut my hair in a long time so now it reaches my shoulders, and it is usually styled in either mid/low ponytail that supposedly "resembles a rabbit's tail with how short and puffy it is." Or so my nieces, mom, sisters, and friends say. (I'm surrounded by females that go wild at the thought of cutting my hair so, appease them I shall by letting it grow. ¬¬ ̆ ) So, technically, yeah I have a tail. XD

Anyway, that's all I can think of; I'm off to write again, take care and all that. I hope you dear readers and Rome, my friend, you too, will stick around, continue to bear with me in the chapters to come to read and help create this crazy story of ours. Thank you all very much for putting up with all my nonsense, and what not, and hopefully I'll see you all soon.

Omake:

Kanda- Mugen, stop it. I know that was you messing with my head again you damned pervert.

Mugen- Nope, that wasn't me. I don't see the future, I just project illusions from your head so...

Kanda-...

Mugen-...

Kanda-...

Mugen-... I think Lavi would most definitely be proud to know that you do in fact have "male instincts," and Gee, for a noob you're such a perv...

Kanda-Tch. Shut up, you Baka. I didn't imagine that you did.- *Blushes heavily and throws a maniacally laughing Mugen over his shoulder into the bed.


	3. Chapter 3 - Insanity and Nothingness

ʢ ▪ᴥ▪ ʔ A.N. - Hello everyone! Ōkami here! If you are reading this, thank you very much, for the new readers, thank you for tuning in I hope you find the story enjoyable, for the ones that are coming back, I am deeply grateful and honored to have you back, As I said before, I'm a newbie writer, this is not my first story but it is the first I publish, I know I probably have tons of mistakes and I'd honestly appreciate any reviews and advice you could give me. I honestly hope this story can be up to your standards and that you have as good a time reading it as I had writing it. I had said I wouldn't take forever to update and I tried not to but some stuff came up and I am late, I am deeply sorry, please forgive me.

ʢ ▪ᴥ▪ ʔ- By the way, this has not yet been edited, I am deeply sorry for that too, my editor took off for a supposed vacation some time ago, he didn't notify me, and he also took the USBs with about ten chapters worth of almost finished work and at this point I'm highly doubting he will ever come back, or if I even want him to. Anyway, even if is not the originally intended chapter, and only an improvised one, I really hope it is to your liking, if there is anything at all that you can tell me about it, things to change, things you don't like, the grammar errors I know are there but can't for the life of me find out, anything, if you just want to talk, leave a comment behind I live for those, they keep me going. Thank you all very much for your time and please enjoy.

ʢ ▪ᴥ▪ ʔ Also…- Dear reader _**SheuOgama**_ , thank you for your comment, and I'm glad you noticed. Just as you said, there is a little of "Neah" in Allen's behavior in chapter 2 but is not quite "Wild-Noah-Neah" just yet. I'll explain a bit more on the "A.N. section" at the end of the episode if anyone would like to know a bit more.

ʢ ▪ᴥ▪ ʔ Disclaimer: Sadly I don't own D. Gray Man, if I did; nothing would make sense with all my babbling, (as you can probably see if you read my notes) I do however own the plot of this work. Now on to the story, Happy readings everyone!

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 **Chapter 3 - Insanity and Nothingness**

-Hey! Want to hear a little story? - Says a man dressed in a clown's outfit while looking at his young, red-headed, grumpy companion.

-Hey! Want to hear a little story?...

-...Want to hear a little story?...

-...little story?...

-...story?...

-...little story?...

The voice echoes over and over repeating the same question until slowly everything fades...

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-Say, have you ever thought about how different the world would be if they knew about ... Well, you know, all of this?- says a young voice in the dark before the fuzzy image of a small, old laboratory came to appear before silver eyes.

-Well, it would be different I'll give you that, but do you honestly think it would be any good? - Questions another voice, and when no answer comes the voice continues to say - I mean look at them. Humans fight pointlessly for whatever reason, create unthinkable machinery to cause death and destruction. They already have too much power; imagine what will they do if those humans learned about us; if they ever found a way to control our energy, then what? Do you believe their thirst for power and knowledge would be finally satisfied? Well I think not, that is why we hide, because we cannot let ourselves fall on the wrong hands, not just for you and me but for all of our people. - Finishes the voice almost pleadingly.

-They are not as bad as you think. There are some "good" humans too. You would know if you actually took time to get to know them if you stopped being such a narrow-minded, hardheaded idiot and actually met them, then you would see

-I said no; it is not safe, end of discussion. - Interiors the second voice with an authoritative ring that leaves no room for discussion.

Suddenly the image of the laboratory fades and in its place stands another picture, this time it is a sad image of death and destruction.

There, in a puddle of blood, lies a silver-haired, pale-skinned body while a black-haired young man stands in front of it, his face hidden in his hands until crazed laughter erupts from him filling the clearing in which he stands. Slowly, a once beautiful face reveals new twisted self, showing tired, bloodshot, crazed eyes that gradually change from silver to black and eventually golden. There are heavy bags under the now golden eyes, heavy tear trails over his cheeks and a face-splitting grin finishes the madman look. He shakes, mutters, and babbles nonsensical sounds as his skin changes from a ghostly pale to an odd grey and gashes open in several places oozing blood, laughing all the while until his eyes close. When it all stops, he takes a deep breath, and with the loudest voice possible, he swears to the high heavens that he will take revenge on the world that drove him to the moment he is living.

He screams over and over until his throat goes raw and all he can do is stand there looming over the pale corpse shrouded in his own insanity before he closes his eyes once again and the scene disappears as he does.

The next image begins on the same clearing as the last; it seems to be an image of battle. People fights, corpses litter the ground, weapons clash, and more bodies fall to the ground just before two gigantic columns of pure, blinding light clash, and an expansive pressure wave blows everything else away before disappearing and living behind a massive cloud of smoke.

Slowly the smoke clears away leaving only the sight of two figures standing, one is the silver-haired person, the other is the black-haired young man. The silver-haired one has a small hand pressed lightly, almost lovingly, against the other's chest. Parallel to the little hand, a black cube the size of the said hand floats lazily behind the black-haired's back while the black-haired's own hand sticks out the silver-haired's back holding out a lump of red that beats ever so slowly before it transforms into a white fireball and dissipates. Or so it seemed for the black-haired male, in reality, it appeared to disappear only to silently reappear around the black floating cube, encasing it and silently breaking into small lights that fall and dissipate on the ground.

Before that image shifts out of focus too and a new one takes its place this time it follows a strange white tread gliding over the ground at incredible speed before stopping at the center of a circle of cloaked figures and reemerging as a much bigger cube-like thing.

All cloaked figures step forward and raise their hands to the cube yet make no other move.

Simultaneously all figures are encased by light, and a series of odd characters begin to appear on the cube and mark it all around.

One by one all the cloaked figures turn into green floating fireballs that get absorbed by the cube and when the last is gone the cube breaks in several small replicas that fly off in every possible direction leaving behind only darkness as that image fades into the nothingness of an empty dream-world too.

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Since long ago, the memories of the grand battle were replayed in the minds of whoever was somehow connected to it. However, little by little people conveniently forgot about it, they created their own stories from whatever they could and manipulated memories to their advantage. Foolish humans defiled a sacred history and used it to for their own greedy means unknowingly dooming themselves to failure.

Unless the truth is found out.

But human greed exceeds their reason, and those who know can only pray that the truth is never found.

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-Hey! Want to hear a little story? - Says a man dressed in a clown's outfit while looking at his young, red-headed, grumpy companion.

-No- Says the child releasing a deep sigh knowing that despite his reply the clown won't listen to him and will still tell him another absurd story anyway.

-Oh, why not? Everyone likes stories, and this is a good one too.- Rambles the clown before beginning his story completely ignoring the child's annoyed glare.

-Ok so, Once upon a time, a foolish celestial king fell in love with humanity. He gave away his divinity and came down to earth, dragging down his people with him. His love for humans had blinded him to humanity's evil, and as a result, he betrayed his people and left them to follow the humans. But many humans only saw him as an opportunity to gain new powers and knowledge, and all things that he could possibly offer and noticing his foolish naivety decided to use it against him, kill him, and take everything for themselves.

The Celestial, being the fool he was, did nothing against the evil humans and let them do what they wanted.

He was trapped and cornered and ready to die; however, when his people found out they stepped up and protected them, but he pleaded for the humans' lives, his people were kind and forgiving and loved him too much to let him die or be sad, so they let the humans go, even if it was a mistake.

Seeing as they could get away with it, humans attacked them, due to the order that was given by their king to never hurt the humans they ended up falling, one by one their physical bodies were taken down, but being celestials, their spirits remained and stood by to protect their king. In the end, the king's most loyal companion and only blood brother stood up to the king and tried to make him see reason only to end up fighting against him and ultimately taking his place. In an ultimate demonstration of love the king's brother sacrificed himself for the sake of his foolish, beloved brother and his dearly loved humans', dying at the hands of the one he most loved, his brother, but not without taking with him his brother love of humans and the majority of their powers with him. It was his last chance to protect his brother, therefore gathering all his remaining strength he compressed his own soul and their energies into a cube that with the last of his life he guided towards the remaining spirits of his people to be sealed, separated and buried in the most remote places on earth, away from humans.

But things didn't end there.

When the King finally understood what he had done, his sorrow and guilt were so much he went insane and began to hate the humans he once loved and caused the death of those that loved him.

However, the humans were quick to find out about the cube and where it came from and begun gathering the power of it under the excuse to fight the newly created evil being that came from the regret the King felt for having killed his own brother. And so an eternal war was sparked over a senseless, foolish, man, isn't that absolutely intriguing?- says the clown excitedly.

-No- replies the child tiredly.

-Why the long face, it was a good story, well how about I tell you another one then? Once upon a time, a group of foolish humans dared play gods, they dreamt of "creating" the perfect "soldier," so they attempted to revive an old, and arguably extinct race, and molding it to their own desires. They managed to awaken one but he escaped before they could do anything to it and that helped them learn that the Memory is a tricky thing that twists and turns realities into self-indulging stories.

If only they had known- the opposite is also possible.

In the end, due to their foolishness, they ended up reviving a being that could very well cause the end of the world and gave it the knowledge about how to restore his own kind ... And everyone lived happily ever after. - Says the clown with a cheerful tone that makes him look delirious and more insane than he should be for a supposedly sane person.

-How does that make any sense? - Grumbles the red-headed child who had pretended to ignore the clown during the entire time he told his "crazy stories" as the said child called them.

-So you were paying attention- Teases the clown, ruffling the boy's hair playfully to which the child replies with unintelligible grumbles before they both disappear in the mist and that image fades too.

And then another image replaces that and when that is done a new one comes until it becomes too much and the dream shatters.

And no sooner does the dream end, a tiny white-haired child wakes up with a start, his single visible silver eye shines with tears as he curls himself into a tiny ball against the corner of the room and away from the red-headed man that observes him tiredly from across the room.

-What is it brat? Did you wet yourself again because another dream of Mana, or are you just being a moron?-Spats the man mercilessly growing beyond tired of having to watch over the easily frightened and hardly responsive white-haired child.

-That is enough. Let the boy be, you're only going to scare him more if you keep acting that way. - chides an old woman standing at the room's entrance.

-But he is a moron. - Replies the man nonchalantly like he is stating a fact.

-Honestly, so are you, now let the boy be, the food is ready in the kitchen, let us go.- Says the old woman with a knowing smirk on her face while she walks out of the room, red-headed man right behind her, and a white-haired boy slightly further away but still following them as quietly as a mouse, "if only his appetite were as small as a mouse's too." Think the old lady and the red-headed man, before that image too disappears…

…and then there is nothing left…

…only darkness, emptiness, and the merciless, endless cold...

…but that is probably an image too…

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ʢ ▪ᴥ▪ ʔ- Thank you, people, who comment, follows, favorites and reads this story, you all make my life better.

Ok so on chapter two, there was a comment about a theory of what was going on, and let me tell you it hit close to home, I am impressed someone spotted that, my editor, proofreaders, and a few other friends who help me out with the story didn't even notice until you pointed it out... And honestly, I thought I had hidden it well, I see I need to work on that XD, anyway…

As "Mugen" said in the last chapter, it was all a "dream" Kanda is having of before young "Yuu" wakes up in the birthing pits and becomes the Kanda we all know now. "Here," in Yuu's dream, Allen and Neah's personalities begin to sync due to the grief they both feel at the prospect of losing a beloved "someone" since both have experienced it already. So technically, in the dream, Allen and Neah are losing their sanity together, or something along the lines. Here they're unable to distinguish reality anymore because of many reasons. The way the order (Central/Lvellie) treated Allen, the sadness of being alone, the shock of reviving Neah's "Noah," and many more things; it is all piling up becoming too much for Allen. And, well, Neah by his lonesome self is already too insane after Mana's "betrayal," add the insanity of Noah, and Allen's traumas and instability and it's entirely possible for their personalities to sync and overlap every now and then whenever the Noah genes try to take over; however, I'll explain further in chapters to come… but technically, yeah, there was some Neah in the previous chapter, and even if it was a dream (?), he still makes an appearance.


	4. Chapter 4 - Regrets

ʢ ▪ᴥ▪ ʔ A.N. - Hello everyone! Ōkami here with a surprise, nonsensical chapter for you all, I haven't slept but it was all worth it, this practically wrote itself can anyone guess what this will be about? Who is it that is talking this time? and to who and what are they talking about? If you happen to have a lucky guess leave it on the comments I love to read those! If you are reading this, thank you very much, for the new readers, thank you for tuning in I hope you find the story enjoyable, for the ones that are coming back, I am deeply grateful and honored to have you back, As I said before, I'm a newbie writer, this is not my first story but it is the first I publish, I know I probably have tons of mistakes and I'd honestly appreciate any reviews and advice you could give me. I honestly hope this story can be up to your standards and that you have as good a time reading it as I had writing it.

 _ʢ ▪ᴥ▪ ʔ- By the way, this has not yet been edited either._

 _ʢ ▪ᴥ▪ ʔ Disclaimer: Sadly I don't own D. Gray Man, if I did; nothing would make sense with all my babbling, (as you can probably see if you read my notes) I do however own the plot of this work. Now on to the story, Happy readings everyone!_

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 _ **Chapter 4 - Regrets**_

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 _-Say have you ever wondered why the innocence takes the shape of a headless, winged angel when awaiting the accommodator's awakening?_

 _-Not a clue but now that you mention it, I do wonder_

 **-Enough chatter, get to work.**

 _We lived in a world of darkness._

With every single enemy faced and every battle fought, we slipped down further.

 _We sink and it is our own fault, yet we blame others because that is the human way._

It is ridiculous, and oh-so-very ironic that those who fight for the world to have light, are bound to sink, to drown in sorrow, pain, grief, despair and disappear into the nothingness, as if they never existed, gradually falling into the darkness, and further away from the goal they desperately fight for.

 _The greater the fight, the deeper we the fall._

 _Lower._

Every day, one by one and ever so slowly we all descended, always going further than before, but then when all hope seemed lost, he came to our rescue all brave smiles, and strong-willed, and invincible, like a divine guardian.

 _An Angel._

We praise him, we admire him, some fear him, but he is kind to all. Much too kind for his own good but he never complains or retorts.

 _He is a much too innocent and pure for a mortal soul to comprehend._

 _He seems to know no fear._

Whenever something happens, he never fails to smile to hide the pain, his face is ever so sweet and bright no matter how dire his situation that, is how kind he is, he hides his own pain and shares our own, carries our burdens with a smile. He is always so warm, and kind, so much so that we somehow feel lost without him because to us, those plunged into the depths of darkness; he is a shiny little star.

 _His light is our hope._

He lives for us, fights for us, pushes us to do better and that's why we stand again. For him, we too will continue to fight in our own ways, if not to purge the darkness like he does, at the very least to lighten the burden of his young shoulders, those small, frail-looking shoulders that belong to a young boy, a child turned warrior for the sake of a pointless war.

 _Life is unfair._

He is the image of beauty and strength, a being so perfect, yet so lonely for there is no human being that can ever hope to match his existence.

 _Fate is so cruel._

 _We see it, yet we can't do a thing._

 _ Shame on us. _

Him; a small child, blindly does so much for everyone and us, the adults cannot do a thing to help him.

 _Cowardice._

Sometimes when he thinks no one is looking, his mind wanders off, and his face seems lost and sad. I wonder what goes thru his head whenever he does that.

 _"Why do you always look so lonely and sad dear child?"_

Our hearts ache in unison for that beautiful creature, unable to intrude in his thoughts, we can only wait and pray.

 _"Please don't look so sad, beloved child."_

Sometimes when he is distracted, his eyes wander off to yet another new, beautiful being. Here in our world of darkness, we have attained yet another child of light.

 _So similar yet so different._

 _Like day and night._

He has made it his mission to befriend the other child, but every time he so much as approaches the other will knock him down. It is sad to see him try wet we can't ever hope to stop him, he needs a friend, we are not, we are monsters that can only bring them pain, and even if we regret it, we cannot stop.

 _We are cowards, they deserve better._

When they stand side by side, it is as if the spirits of dusk and dawn have come to our realm in the form of children, both beautiful beyond comprehension, yet shrouded in darkness far beyond our grasps.

 _Unreachable._

We live together yet we all seem so far apart, and even between them things are not better off, their worlds seem so far off, one bubbly and bright, all warm and sunshine the other dark and calm, a moonless night.

 _Perfect-matching-halves_

Sometimes we can't help but wonder "is it ok to let them stay together?" They get along so bad that they can't be properly "seen" "together" at once, not without them ending up looking like they want to go at each other's throats.

Some of us think it would be best to keep them forever apart, yet no matter how we try, they always seem to drift towards one another until they clash. It's like looking at double-sided magnets, one moment they attract each other until they turn around and can't be fixed together, although if one must confess, it is always fun to watch them interact.

Usually, they seem so different, contrasting and contradicting, like sweet and sour, light and dark, black and white, polar opposites.

 **-Who they were they will never remember, we can't allow it. It is not safe.-**

 _-Why? And safe for who?-_

 **-That is something you don't need to concern yourselves with.-**

 _-But we can't force them to synchronize nor send them out yet, they are just children...-_

 **-You can and you will, that is your job, and you will follow orders, whether you want to or not, well that is not an issue...-**

 _-Then what about their memories?-_

 **-Out with them, replace them. At best, they must never remember a thing, puppets don't need minds of their own, those that get them shall be terminated, they don't need memories, but just in case, give them different ones, human ones, memories that fit but don't show their true selves in them.-**

 **-Yes, It is better that way, more convenient, we must never let them remember. If they do, we'll never be able to use them...-**

 **-In battle, their kind is naturally exceptional, perfectly fitting and synchronized, we need their bodies not their minds, I'd say, there is not even a real need to let them interact.-**

 _-But they are still too young, still just little children.-_

 **-Nonsense. They are simply tools, not even human; you do not need to worry about their well-being.**

Despite cruelty behind those words, the hey were right, our children of light were entirely compatible, too compatible and beautiful, they highlighted one another's strengths and covered for each other's weaknesses, but they were also one another's greatest weak point. If they fought together, without a doubt, nothing could beat them ... but they never fight together but against one another.

"They" are stronger than anyone, compatible to a fault, like two sides of the same coin; so much so that it makes us wonder if "perhaps they were always meant to be one?" Deep down we've all know they were, yet the destiny won't accept it, the church won't allow it and neither will Central if he were to find out.

God only knows what they would do if they were to find out; if they were to gain any more power over those two... for their own good and perhaps our own, we pray they never do.

 _Our prayers seem to go unheeded._

"They" have found out. Someone far worse than Central, someone we knew nothing about even if we constantly fought against his kind, someone we never suspected to have among us, and for a long while, no one would, he has gained knowledge, and so have others, yet we can't do a thing about it.

If only we had paid more attention.

 _...perhaps it would be best if it all came to an end..._

Silently the monsters under our roof conspire, they plan and plot ways to fulfill their own desires, and we can't do a thing about it, not if we want to live, and we must live to help with what we can thinking of the greater scheme. We swore to survive and work to aid those who are in need around the world, yet it is on the most basic level we fail to do our job, we fail to protect and the innocents right before our very eyes. Sometimes I wonder if there is a way out of this place. If there is, I pray it comes soon for those two, and honestly so does everyone else, well, at least those who care.

It seems our prayers were finally answered, one them has been set free, even if the price was his demise, two broken hearts, his death sentence, by his other half's own hand.

 _Ironically, sadly, the cursed history repeats itself._

We have been set free as well, if only to haunt the world in retribution for our sins, to watch our other child of light silently crumble apart and hate the world that has destroyed him, until the day another one comes his way and puts him back together.

 _-We leave it in your hands, new child of light. We pray your innocence is enough to save the world we so foolishly and thoroughly destroyed. And if not the world, then at the very least, please, we beg of you, do save their souls, they deserved better because they are innocence incarnate too.-_


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